. . . my life was about to change. Again.
It was about 11pm and I was almost nine months pregnant--three weeks shy of my due date. Then just before I went to bed, I began to suspect my water was leaking. I called the on-call nurse and begged to be allowed to stay home until morning, but was told I needed to go to the hospital to be checked. Once at the hospital, sure enough, my water had broken so I had to stay.
It was a fitfull night with little sleep . . . the monitor constantly moving and a nurse coming in to adjust it. They wouldn't let me get up and walk because the baby was still too high up. Finally very early in the morning the doctor came in and examined me and gave me permission to walk for an hour at a time. So I walked and got back into bed. That's when it all started.
Darned monitor slipped again. The nurse came in and tried to adjust it . . . but this time, something different. The nurse called for the doctor, then explained to me that she couldn't find the baby's heartbeat. The doctor came in and examined me and explained that they would have to do a C-section. Everything was happening so fast, but all I really remember is being wheeled down the hall and begging God to save my baby boy's life. I remember the O.R. and vaguely being put to sleep, then waking up to see Jerry and one of our Assistant pastors.
The rest of the story came later. The placenta broke away (called placenta abruptio, for you childbirth experts). I was bleeding. The baby was getting no oxygen. It was Providence that we were at the hospital instead of home. Providence that the nurse was really paying attention. Providence that Andrew and I are alive today.
That day was a very long day, as I waited all day for my baby, unable to get up and go to the nursery to see him.
He's bigger now, seven years later. But oh! In some ways he hasn't changed much at all. He's still in a hurry to do everything in ways nobody ever expects (and sometimes that we don't want to do them!). He still risks his life to do what everybody else does safely. He still provides us with some very exciting stories, and some very interesting adventures. And when you make it through all the hard stuff, he's still very much worth the adventure (or worry, or scare, or whatever!).
So while he's off right now with his grandparents camping, I'm thinking about how much I love that little boy, even though he costs me a lot, and has nearly cost me so much more. He sure is worth it! Happy Birthday sweet Andrew!